Box Turtle Bulletin

A Rosary for Falwell

Note: These opinions are mine and mine alone.

Just as I expected, anti-gay activists are appalled at the number of “sodomites” who greeted Jerry Falwell’s death with a less-than-somber attitude. In fact, some of them have responded to his death with undisguised glee.

I understand the celebrations, and I understand why some would be offended. In my own defense I didn’t break out in song when I heard the news — although to be honest, my first thought ran along the lines of “one down, so many more…” My second thought was to phone my partner and ask nonchalantly, “have you heard the news by any chance?” He hadn’t. “Falwell died,” I said. And that was about it. It was as if we ran out of coffee that morning and I wanted him to stop at the grocery store. In fact, I reminded him that we really had run out of coffee before hanging up.

But it’s true, some responded with celebrations and dancing. It’s probably not the most mature or civil way to act when someone dies, but since when have maturity and civility been hallmarks of the give and take between Jerry Falwell and the gay community?

In the 1980’s, as the gay community was facing the greatest calamity it had ever faced, there was Falwell’s visage on television, thundering, “AIDS is not just God’s punishment for homosexuals; it is God’s punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals.”

This was a time when thousands of men were being cut down in the prime of their lives, felled by a new and frightening disease. Many were fired from their jobs, kicked out of their apartments by fearful landlords, abandoned by their families, cursed by their neighbors, and reviled by national leaders. This adversity brought the gay community together in a way nothing else could. And it was other gays and lesbians who took them in, walked their dogs, cooked their meals, cleaned up their vomit and their soiled sheets, and generally did all the things that no one else would.

And when they had a chance to look up from the hard work and the horrors around them, there was Jerry Falwell, bellowing, “AIDS is the wrath of a just God against homosexuals. To oppose it would be like an Israelite jumping in the Red Sea to save one of Pharaoh’s charioteers.”

These images are impossible to forget, especially for those who lived through those darkest of days.

When that darkness began to recede with more effective medications, we still couldn’t shake Falwell’s blame whenever something when horribly wrong. There he was again, just a few days after 9/11, saying that God had lifted his veil of protection and allowed those atrocities to go forward all because of us, among others.

He apologized shortly afterward, but then just last week he told CNN’s Christiane Amanpour that he stood by those remarks. What a class act.

So yeah, I imagine that some are offended by the celebrations of this man’s death. I don’t blame them. After all, these celebrations really are offensive, no doubt about it. But while I can understand why they’d be offended, I cannot share their outrage. I can’t even muster a shrug. Instead, I’ll just confess my sin of indifference and maybe with God’s Grace I can overcome it with time.

Christ said, “All men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” St. Augustine well understood this when he said, “Preach the Gospel at all times, using word when necessary.” They understood how important it was for preachers of the Gospel to set an example. Proclaiming the Gospel is more a matter of how one lives than it is the words that one uses.

But all too often, Falwell’s example consisted of using injurious words while remaining stingy in deed. And with those words, the gay community was often the target of his ire whenever there was death and destruction.

And so with Falwell’s death, some in the LGBT community are responding in kind. No, it’s not the best response, but look at it this way: If Falwell did set the example, then I’d say those who are celebrating are following his example pretty well. Granted, Falwell never celebrated anyone’s death as far as I know, but he certainly knew how to exploit grief and suffering. And in that sense, it could be argued that those who are celebrating are taking a page out of his playbook. They’re just running a different play. Tacky, offensive, inappropriate and ill-mannered — all of this is true, but there you have it. Offense is repaid with offense; outrage with outrage; an eye for an eye and all that.

As for me — and I’m not making any promises here — but I may try to follow a different example. I’m not sure that Falwell would approve, but at times like these I have a tendency to fall back onto my Catholic roots. It’s the tradition in Catholicism to pray the Rosary whenever someone dies.

I did this just last January, when my family gathered to pray the Rosary on the evening before my grandmother’s funeral. I used my old rosary to guide me in the prayers, a rosary that had belonged to my grandfather. My grandmother gave it to me after he died thirty-seven years earlier. That rosary has carried me through an awful lot over the years.

If I think of it — if I find a quiet moment and if my better nature retains the upper hand — I may pray the Rosary while meditating on the Sorrowful Mysteries sometime this weekend. If I do, I’ll pray for Jerry Falwell (my guardian angel has already admonished me for imagining this Baptist preacher’s reaction to a gay Catholic praying for his deliverance from purgatory), and I’ll pray for his family. His family most certainly deserves our prayers and condolences during their time of sorrow.

But I gotta be honest here — and this is not something I’m proud of — but if a parade should happen to pass by, I may get distracted and go outside instead. I don’t think I’d join in necessarily, but I’d probably at least stand in the doorway and watch.